


atom to atom (oh can you feel it on me love?)

by sirius_bucky_solo



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lily is Sirius' twin, M/M, Marauders era, Panic Attack, Regulus doesn't exist, Sirius Black has bad parents, Sirius PoV, Torture/Abuse, dumb boys in love, sorry about that, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 01:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8267528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirius_bucky_solo/pseuds/sirius_bucky_solo
Summary: "You see," I continue airily, "I find myself hungry for something quite different. You, to be perfectly honest." At that, James' eyes roll towards the ceiling before apparently giving up and standing, pulling me close to him and claiming my mouth with his own. He holds me to him and it feels like we can never be close enough together, as though the only thing that could keep us both from shattering is each other.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Idek this wasn't supposed to be quite so long and also...yeah I don't know  
> Beta'D by Crying101 so thanks for that love :)
> 
> Disclaimer: JK owns HP, not me (sadly).   
> Title is a lyric from Florence + The Machine's Strangeness and Charm, which is a damn great song.

atom to atom (oh can you feel it on me love?)  
A Prongsfoot oneshot 

I meet him at Ruby's Diner, our favourite muggle place to go for dinner. The entire front lit up in red neon, the inside straight out of the 60's, complete with gingham-wearing waitresses and food served in little red baskets. He waits inside, hazel eyes flitting up to meet mine through the rectangular glasses, grin breaking across his face as I enter the quaint restaurant. My lovely 'boyfriend', wearing dark jeans and a pale blue shirt rolled up to the elbows, hugging his muscular frame flatteringly. His dark hair is in careful disarray tumbling down to brush his ears and I relax at the welcome sight before taking a seat opposite him. 

"Hey starshine! Ordered you a chocolate malt and a cheeseburger with fries... That ok?" I smile at him, tension seeping out of my body after a long day of stress, "perfect." He reaches across the table and entwines our fingers, brushing his thumb gently across the back of my hand. I slump bonelessly into my chair. "Everything ok Padfoot?" He tilts his head, concerned, and I sigh noncommittally. "I'm fine, it was just a long day... I - Things are getting worse at home, if that's possible. Please don't worry, I'm ok, I promise." James' eyebrows furrow and he glances down at the table, at where our fingers are intertwined. My grip tightens on his, "I thought it was getting better, I thought they were getting used to it," he whispers hoarsely. 

He's talking about us. 'Us' us. "So did I, Mr Potter, although my sister is fine with it so I guess that's good, right?" My twin sister Lily is a fantastic witch, and is the only family member apart from my uncle Alphard who is remotely sane or a decent human. "That's very good, Mr Black, very good indeed. I do so like your sister." He returns playfully and I feign horror, "My sister? Over me? Should I be jealous?" He chuckles throatily and my eyes darken.

After dinner we step outside into the wintry air and I shrug on James' motorcycle jacket, animagus shape stamped in white on the back. It smells of the Quidditch pitch, pumpkin pasties, and a smoky scent that is uniquely his. He smirks and puts on mine and I notice his careful inhale as the jacket embraces his muscled frame. My mouth twitched but I say nothing. "I'll walk you home?" I nod gratefully and we begin to stroll down the path, relishing in the quiet night. We arrive far too quickly, reaching the dark house full of secrets and hurt hidden in between ordinary muggle ones. I reach up and brush my hand through his messy hair, and he tilts his head down to brush his lips against my forehead. I exhale. His goodbye floats across my temple and I step back from him reluctantly. "Until tomorrow," I whisper, so as not to disturb our fragile moment of peace. 

*****

I fumble with my wand to disarm the wards, subconsciously delaying seeing my mad parents again. Inevitably, the door creaks open and I wince at the harsh noise. Stepping inside, I try to avoid bumping into that damned umbrella stand, quietly as I can, hopefully not disturbing the portraits. My eyes are firmly focusing away from the stuffed house elf heads lining the dark walls. I have almost made it to my room, to safety, my refuge in this particular house of horrors, when a voice shatters my otherwise perfect night. "You disgusting freak." My father hisses drunkenly at me from the kitchen's doorway. With my sharpened canine senses, I can smell firewhiskey and cigars from where I stand and it scares me. I have never seen my father like this. He staggers toward me suddenly, and I instinctively step back, two of my steps to every one of his. 

My eyes are darting around the room, searching for an escape when he finally reaches me. My body is tense, waiting for the inevitable verbal or physical blows to hit. "I will not have a gay, Gryffindor, bloodtraitor son." He spits the words out as though they physically pain him. My father's eyes are identical to mine, but they are glazed over. There is only one time I have ever been scared of the eyes residing in my skull. There is silence and then a sound I have never heard before. Orion Black snarls "crucio," wand pointing steadily in my direction. 

I feel nothing and then the pain hits me. Invisible knives cut deep into every inch of my skin and I crumble to the floor like a puppet whose strings have been cut, pain causing involuntary spasms along my body. "Incendio." Conjured flames dance around me, searing, seeking to hurt, to ruin, the caster's intent warping the spell from something made to help into something malicious and terrifying. After he tires of this, he approaches my form and begins kicking, aiming mostly at my torso  
Finally, my father backs up to admire his handiwork, my bleeding, burnt body, broken and bruising on the floor. 

Tears I am in too much pain to be ashamed by fall freely down my face, mouth twisted in a silent agonised scream and sobs tearing harshly from my stinging throat. He steps back and leaves the room, and his revolted expression brands itself onto my brain. My body twitches, aftershocks from the prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus making themselves known in painful, random ways.

I crane my neck and glance at where he stood only moments before, and with dawning horror recognise Walburga in the doorway through tear-blurred eyes. I stare at her, at my most vulnerable, wand lying on the floor at least six feet away. My biological mother laughs, and the sound echoes harshly, a stark contrast to my screams just moments ago. She shakes her head and her voice is flat, "you are no longer a son of the House of Black, you are no longer a son of mine. You will be disowned, disinherited and I forbid you to ever contact your sister or return here again." Leaving my parents and Grimmauld Place was always something I knew would happen, but I guess part of me had foolishly hoped that seeing Lily would still be an option. I guess it isn't anymore. Some part of me insists that she will still want me around, but that voice isn't loud enough. A hidden piece of me shatters, and I know that nothing will fix this.

My body aches all over and I feel sick. Turning my head to the side, I turn my head and empty the contents of my stomach, my wonderful dinner from what seems like so long ago. I cough up blood afterwards and this scares me. Somehow, I manage to stumble to my feet and spots dance in my eyes, blurring my vision. Pausing only to spare a final glance for the room where I know, somehow, my brother is sitting helplessly, I stumble out of the house, and out of The Noble House of Black for the last time.

Outside, I find it has started to rain, and clouds have blanketed the night in complete darkness. Flickering street lights illuminate my path and with a sigh I stumble and turn in the direction of James' house. My face grows wetter and wetter until I don't know where my tears end and where the rain starts. I wish I had never met him. That way my heart wouldn't be aching more than my battered body and I wouldn't be about to break the heart of the boy I loved. 

*****

By the time I reach his beautiful manor house, I am soaked to the skin, my teeth are chattering and I feel on the verge of passing out. Hating myself more than I previously thought possible, I drag myself to his front door, lift my hand, and knock twice against the strong oak. I hear faint footsteps grow louder and eventually the door swings open. James stands there, pleasant smile slipping off his face as he recognises the state of his unexpected visitor. He steps backwards, shocked, eyes wide, a hand coming up to cover his mouth. I must look an unpleasant sight. Leaning heavily on my unburnt leg, my dark hair is plastered to my skull and water drips down my face, along my body and onto the ground. I am shaking so violently, from shock, cold, and unresolved fear that I think I might fall over. 

Just as I think this, my legs finally give up on me and I topple forward into Prongs' arms, still trembling forcefully. I watch as a myriad of emotions cross his face, recognising fear, concern, and an overwhelming wealth of compassion. "What happened?" The words bubble out of his mouth, and he looks physically ill. I bite my lip, unsure how much to tell him before settling on the truth. "It was my father. He - was drunk, I'm sure it wasn't on purpose-" I snap my mouth shut when I realise that I am making excuses for the person who is very obviously responsible for the state that I'm in, and James' ashen face silently agrees. My eyelids flutter and his hand comes to cradle my head gently, forcing me awake. "Let's get you inside, I've got first aid stuff in the bathroom." Lifting me bridal style, Prongs carries me inside and kicks the door shut behind him.

We stop in the living room and he deposits me gently on the well worn couch before firmly saying, "stay awake," and rushing out of the room, a litany of curses reach my ears following his exit. Barely any time passes before he returns, arms full of assorted medical supplies. Stepping closer to me, he unbuttons my soaking shirt and removes it to examine my injuries, hissing in a breath as he sees the extent of what my father has done to me. "I'm so sorry Sirius." James' voice is shaky but his hands are steady, he deftly addresses the bruises and burns littering my body. I try to breathe deeply - oh. I think some of my ribs are cracked. Silent tears trek down both our faces. 

"I'm fine, it's nothing... Here, help me sit up." My feeble attempt to move into a sitting position is thwarted easily by a gentle hand, pushing me back into the cushions. I try a shaky smile, but mother-hen Prongs is having none of it as he leans forward to press our foreheads together. "How are you feeling? The truth, Padfoot," his eyes meet mine and I ache inside at his vulnerability. "I'm a bit sore, I think my ribs might be cracked... But - So much better than before, honestly. I'm sorry to drag you into this." He lifts his wand and waves it in an intricate do pattern, the spell for healing bones falling from his lips. I look away, uncomfortable with such a plain display of feelings, but James' hand grasps my chin and forces my gaze back. He smiles softly before connecting our lips.

His hands are everywhere at once, stroking, reassuring, caressing. He is just pressing me into the couch when the doorbell rings. He leans back immediately, our darkened eyes hazy with passion clearing to fill with worry. I open my mouth to speak when he rests a finger against my lips, "you stay here, I'll get it." James' tone brooks no argument and I settle reluctantly back into the cushions, trying to keep the panic from crossing my face. On the inside, I can't breathe and I know that my current mood cannot be good for the ache lingering on and in my body.

*****

Suddenly I am shaking. My body is alive, vibrating with panic, and tension is wound so tight inside of me that it is a wonder I don't explode. I hear the front door creak open. My breath is now coming in tiny gasps and my hands spasm uncontrollably against the cushions. The lights are flickering with the unpredictable waves of magic being accidentally released. I hear a male voice from the doorway, but it is a muted sound and I find that I cannot make out the words being said.

The light finally gives out and shatters with a distant noise, plunging the room into an instant darkness. There are footsteps drawing closer now, and a whisper reaches my ears as the globe mends itself and light fills the room once more. James fills the doorway, someone else behind him, and my ears are clear again. Curse words twist out of him and his eyes are scared even as he reaches my shaking form on the couch. He looks so worried. Over me?

"Oh god, oh god," his hands grasp my face, cupping it gently in his palms. "Breathe for me baby, ok, can you do that? Please, baby, come on, you can do it, I know you can." His insistent whispers pull me to the surface and my shaking slows as I heave in deep shaky breath after breath. James is still talking to me, voice deep and comforting, my hands reach up to grasp his and entwine our fingers. I pull them down to rest in my lap. They shake, once, twice more, before stilling. 

My eyes lift up from our hands to meet the newcomer's. I relax. Lily Black moves forward, forced smile plastered onto her face. Poorly concealed worry flashes in her eyes, the first emerald coloured in our family. "Oh Sirius." I wince without meaning to. "Are you okay? Oh of course you're not, what am I thinking, you poor thing, how's your breathing? I cannot believe they would do this I -" Hastily sitting up, I interrupt with a groan. "Lils, stop. Please. You're not even supposed to be here, and I am not allowed to interact with you ever again. I've been disowned, as it would seem. Maybe yell at me sometime when I don't have ribs that were cracked an hour ago, and knitted back together a little while after?" My sisters hands fly up to her mouth, tears in her eyes finally spilling over to slide down her cheeks.

James was still kneeling on the floor next to me with his hands wrapped in mine, and I tugged on them to get his attention. He focuses on my face, and, seemingly having a conversation with himself, finally nods. Unfolding gracefully, he lifts me up slightly before settling onto the couch with one Sirius Black nestled on his lap. Too exhausted to be indignant, I wiggle slightly to get more comfortable and turn my face into his neck. I whisper my thanks meekly against his throat and his arms shift to embrace me firmly. My fingers twitch against his back, hold tight to his shirt. In that moment, I am content.

A hand that is most definitely not James' grips my shoulder, and I lift my tear stained face out of his neck to find a face identical to mine save for the feminine angles, green eyes and fiery red hair encompassing it. Lily's crying has slowed, but the conflicting sadness and anger on her face has only grown stronger. "I am going to make this right, Sirius." She whispers firmly, as if saying it louder could cause our parents to overhear. "Lily, no. We're all angry and hurting right now, but I don't want to go back." At her hurt expression, I hastily elaborated, "With the exception of you, that house has held nothing but bad memories for me, and they don't want me. I love you, and James, and you know they don't approve of me and him together... I can't live like that. I won't." Something in her expression broke and I knew I had gotten through to her. "I don't like it, Si, but you already know that. I....won't do anything about it now, ok? That's all I can promise," I nod gratefully and bury my face back into my haven, wishing that if I inhaled deeply enough I would block out the rest of the world. Just for long enough to feel okay again.

*****

After what seems like an eternity yet no time at all, James clears his throat and shifts me slightly. I sit up and meet his gaze, slightly embarrassed that my weight has been squashing him while he held me. "Maybe we should eat something?" His eyes are gentle but his tone and expression makes it clear that this isn't a question. "Sounds good to me!" Lily pipes up, perhaps trying to return to the sense of normalcy this scene would usually provide. Dipping my head in agreement I press a kiss to the dark-haired wizard's jaw and wiggle my hips. Prongs' pupils go dark and he growls softly, unable to stop his pelvis from rising to meet my own.

"Mister Potter!" I exclaim indignantly, my hand against his chest as I lift off his lap. "What deplorable things are you attempting here? And on an injured party, no less." My fingers trail gently across his pecs before digging my nails in, eliciting a warning hiss from the disgruntled animagus. "Food, remember?" Lily had already moved into the kitchen, thankfully away from the sexual tension beginning to grow between us. Not that, of course, she would be particularly surprised.

"You see," I continue airily, "I find myself hungry for something quite different. You, to be perfectly honest." At that, James' eyes roll towards the ceiling before apparently giving up and standing, pulling me close to him and claiming my mouth with his own. He holds me to him and it feels like we can never be close enough together, as though the only thing that could keep us both from shattering is each other. 

My body floods with heat and as my fingers creep under James' shirt, I learn that he's running pretty hot as well. Our bodies move, nearly synchronised, and everything is love, heat, and a fierce desperation. He tastes like mine.

We are in the process of removing my shirt when Lily comes into the room, saying that she will absolutely NOT be present for the defiling of her baby brother. "Sweet Morgana's tits, sister mine. We are twins, I'm not your baby brother at all! In fact, I am seven minutes older than you, remember? And, I hate to break it to you, but I've been defiled loooong before now." I end my admonition with an unashamed wink, and she makes retching noises at me.

Through this exchange of words, James has not once removed his mouth from my neck. I admire his commitment. To show this, I squeeze his arse appreciatively and enjoy the way his teeth clamp down on my throat, his hips rocking into me. 

"Oh for - " Apparently fed up, the fiery haired girl pulls out her wand and nonverbally sends a spray of water over the two of us. We detach from each other reluctantly, still holding hands. Lily rolls her eyes at the innocent expressions hastily arranged on our faces, and scoffs as I jut out my bottom lip, eyes wide with years of practice. She is opening her mouth, no doubt to tell us off, when a loud crack sounds and our hands fly to our wands, immediately in a different mindset. 

A boy, perhaps three years our junior at seventeen, stands precariously on the coffee table. His eyes are tired and world weary, and blood and dirt is so ingrained into his clothes it seems as if they have never been clean. There is something about him, something familiar? It is with a quickening heartbeat that I realise he looks almost identical to one James Potter. "Dad?" I am flooded with happiness and despair, because as far as I know the only way to produce a child is between a man and a - "Mum?"

His eyes, are what makes him almost identical to my beautiful Prongs. His eyes are Lily's.

**Author's Note:**

> HAHAHAHAHAHA sorrynotsorry *shrugs and chuckles nervously*  
> Please comment n kudos if u enjoyed! Thanks folks, until next time xx


End file.
